


How to make enemies that hate you so much they'll cross dimensions to murder you. Again.

by GlowyMimic



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Ending the world has to be related to Major Character Death right, Gen, I just want to save my red haired elf child, Yion has anger issues, this is silly I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowyMimic/pseuds/GlowyMimic
Summary: Sometimes murdering your friend one time just isn't enough.





	How to make enemies that hate you so much they'll cross dimensions to murder you. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit:This is pretty much a test and anything following this might not be consistent.   
> Pretty jumbled to read, sorry for the format. Was written while I was trying to bring back my first Inquisitor from the bizarre fate I ended up giving him.
> 
> The mood is also all over the place.

_‘I’m not even a person to you_.’

_That day in the elven ruins, something in Yion Lavellan cracked. Some said it was his heart, others said it was his mind._

‘ _f I live… I’m coming to end you. Nothing is going to stop me. Not the death of the world or the revival of the old._ ’

‘ _I know ._ ’

‘ _How can you? I’m nothing to you.'_

\---

Sometimes your best friend decides to destroy the world because he decided the old one was better.

Sometimes that friend takes your arm, says you’re not really a person and you _just_ don’t take that very well.

Sometimes that friend succeeds and destroys your world.

Sometimes you call down lightning from the sky and end your friend for every dying soul demanding retribution.

Sometimes the strike sends you through Eluvian after Eluvian after Eluvian because Mythal _owns_ you and you don’t care. Your mind is gone with grief.

Sometimes you end up in a land of snow. A land where dragons have souls that bind themselves to you, because you’re chosen. Maybe not _here_ , but _somewhere_ you _were_ chosen.

Sometimes, you decide to murder your best friend. Again. Before it goes wrong.

Sometimes, your friend drives you so mad you decide to break the world barriers and drag yourself back home, knowing most of your body with fall and what remains will be a broken soul wearing a metallic glove.

Sometimes you find yourself, young and as content as a mage can be, until you reach out and grab hold.

Sometimes, there’s too much pain, too much misery, too much knowledge for your younger self’s mind to handle. You forget and it is a kindness.

Sometimes, you dream and you remember.

Sometimes, somebody takes your place and opens the doors, disrupting a ritual years in the making.

\----

Somewhere in Thedas, in an old, forgotten place sat an Eluvian, whole and unmarred.

It flared to life with force enough to make dust fly.

Over its magic hum there was screaming. Screams of fury, despair and grief.

A man, more spirit than flesh, fell out the looking glass. Metallic claws of his gauntlet dug into stone as he dragged himself away.

More of his form started to fall away, like little stone flakes.

‘No.’ He snapped and threw one arm in front of himself and continued. ‘No.’ His gauntlet slammed in the ground again, claws tearing up ancient, colourful floor tiles.

Boroka’s gauntlet withstood the harsh journey. He couldn’t remember what Boroka looked like anymore, but he remembered the man’s work. It was a masterpiece.

He understood Mythal now. The fury, the indomitable will that drove her. He still heard the Well of Sorrows and her quiet, ethereal voice. They were both quieter now.

He felt the Fade pulling at him, trying to remake its connection to him.

He let volatile energies surround him, snapping at demons and binding what remained of him.

It held him together when the last shard of his form fell.

The energies roared around him, eternal and his to keep.  

Unflinching stubbornness kept him focused and soon he saw light from the outside. He saw the sky.

It was blue and _unmarred_.

He should feel happiness, relief, because there was still time.

But it doesn’t come, there was just more anger, more grief and more screaming from a broken soul.

‘ **Solas** !’ He called, voice echoing in the ancient halls. ‘ **SOLAS** !’  
Yion Lavellan remembered his friend who took his arm and destroyed his friends. Destroyed his world.

The volatile energies took him away.

He remembered. He would find himself. He would be traveling. He could find his friend and end him before everything went wrong.

\---

An elf with fire coloured hair and a staff on his back moved towards the Conclave.

He did not sense the broken being as it moved towards him.

\----

There was too much. Too much pain, too much misery, too much fury for the man’s young mind.

Yion Lavellan was trained to fight off demons in his dreams. Not a much older version of himself who had seen too much to still be entirely sane.

Yion Lavellan forgot. It was a mercy he had pleaded for in a land of snow and never got.

\----

Yion wondered if the Dread Wolf had finally gotten out of his damn corner and decided shake things up to a ridiculous and personal degree.

There was a massive, green tear in the sky. A hole in reality above the place the temple of sacred ashes had been.

_Where he should have been._

Demons were running rampant all over the place. He was safe for the moment, hidden in a cave.

He felt he should be more worried than he was, but at the moment he was entirely too bewildered over three other things.

One: His hair had turned white. Maybe he have seen the destruction of the temple and the shock might have done it...He just didn’t remember?

Two: Some of his left arm appeared to have been...amputated and replaced with a prosthetic, metal gauntlet made from a type of metal he couldn’t quite place.

He wasn’t sure, but from what he could see and feel there wasn’t anything past his elbow.

He couldn’t really check. The gauntlet was secured in a harness and had a locking system that seemed to require a second person’s help.  


It didn’t hurt. It felt like it had been there for _ages_.

 

He tilted his head, looking at the metal fingers as they moved like he would want them to.

 

Third: He was...calm. Absolute chaos was engulfing the world, but he...felt fine.

Maybe he was cursed or the like. The clan always had kept him at arm's length for reasons he still couldn’t understand.

\----

Maybe he gotten possessed? He had gotten knocked out by... _something_? Maybe he saw what happened to temple and just fell over.

But he felt _fine_. There weren’t any demonic voices talking to him.

He was surrounded by chaos and he felt _fine_.

 _His mother would be so proud,_ he thought and ducked further into the cave as gigantic Pride demon stomped past the cave’s mouth.

\---

He went back to examine his left arm.

His eyes followed the fingers as they closed, one after the other. Perfectly able to mimic his right arm. Weighed the same, too.  
He expected there to be some kind of jarring sound when it moved, but it was fairly quiet.

He ran his fingers down it, feeling its cold and sleek, green-yellow surface.  
He turned his hand, looking at the thing’s... _nails_.

It was claws, really.

Made to rip and tear, maybe climb.

Made for anger.

There were gemstones embedded on the gauntlet’s side. Some of them were violet and engraved with storm runes.

The others....were teal gemstones, some he hadn’t seen before.

\---

An hour passed and he stayed in the cave, trying to understand a rage that boiled in the back of his mind.

He didn’t know where it came from or what had created it. It was just there and felt as familiar as the gauntlet.

He looked up to the hole in the sky and felt the rage spike.

_Wolf._

He blinked at the word. It echoed in his head, said in his own voice.

 _Hunt the Wolf,_ it went on and fell silent, leaving him to wonder what wolf it... _he_ meant.

What wolf? A random wolf? _The Dread Wolf?_

He heard a rumbling noise, different from the other noise the sky-tear made and looked back to the sky.

Something hurtled up towards the tear and collided with it.

‘ _The_ Dread Wolf?’ Yion whispered to himself incredulously.

Light flared in the sky and seconds later he felt air blasting past him.

Yion wasn’t sure why, but he took it as a _yes_.

It was _ridiculous_. But he got up, took his things and ventured outside.

Somewhere his mother was feeling victorious, he was sure. Finally her son had decided to listen to her nonsense about doing the first absurd thing in an absurd situation.

He shook his head. The Dread Wolf _really_ had left his corner.

There was a small village some distance away from the temple, if he remembered right...


End file.
